All We Are
by eternallight101
Summary: Jasper's secret is out.  What will his stepbrother/best friend think?  Will he now hate him?  SLASH, ABUSE, adult themes/language.  Please review!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ** Hello everyone! Please note that this is a Slash story (male love only here!) with adult themes and adult language. That means, if you aren't 18 years old, please leave!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you would recognize.

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**All We Are**

**Chapter 1: A Father's Love**

We all hope for a miracle at some point in our lives: to win the lotto in order to get out of financial ruin; to find a cure for a deadly or crippling disease; to find the love of your life; to find hope where none is available.

I don't believe in miracles, but it doesn't stop me from wishing I had one. I don't believe in fate either, but I can't help but wonder if our lives are already planned out for us. Is free will really just a pipe dream? If it is real, then why would I choose to have this life?

Speaking of pipes, I really need to lay off of this shit. I get to fucking philosophical for my own good when I'm loaded. I shake my head, trying to clear it a bit while I scoot off of my bed to open my bedroom window. I turn my ceiling fan on and hope the cloud that has enveloped me dissipates a bit before Dad gets home.

I let my mind wander for a while, relishing in the fact that it's Friday and we finished football practice early for once. I had minimal homework since I was able to get most of it done during my free period so I wasn't worried about putting it off until some later time this weekend.

I was contemplating whether I should go to Jessica Stanley's "my parents are out of town for the weekend" party tonight, but I think I might just enjoy a quiet night to myself more. It's not often that Dad worked the night shift on a Friday night.

I'm still pretty fucking relaxed when I hear the garage door open. I look at the alarm clock on my nightstand knowing that he shouldn't be home until tomorrow morning. He's always been really strict about his schedule and never deviated unless he had to. You could set your clock by him. Something must be wrong. Instinctively, I rub my already bruised ribs and hope he decides to leave that side alone. Coming home early can only mean one thing.

Someone's in trouble.

I have been able to explain the bruises I get pretty fucking often by being on the football team at school. My stepbrother, Edward, doesn't have that luxury since he's a runner, and usually blames it on me being to rough with him.

He is kind of a pansy.

But I would do anything to protect him. He is, after all, family.

My mind starts to wander to when I first met the pip-squeak.

_Dad called me down stairs to meet his new wife, Esme and her son Edward. I said hello to Esme but I couldn't see Edward that well since he was hiding behind her. I stuck my hand out and said "Hello Edward. My name is Jasper Whitlock. Do you want to see my toys?" I wanted to look at Dad to make sure that I acted correctly, but I also wanted to meet my new stepbrother._

_I watched as his wide green eyes came into view slowly. He had wild hair that looked like the color of a penny. Weird. He was shorter than me, and skinny. This was the kind of kid you wanted to sit down and feed several times a day!_

_He tentatively shook my hand and said quietly, "My name is Edward Masen." As soon as our hands touched, he pulled it back. I rubbed my hand on my pants feeling a slight shock. He must have dragged his feet on the carpet when he took his shoes off at the front door._

_After excusing ourselves, we ran upstairs to my room where I showed him all of my best toys. We shared a room for a while until Esme and Dad were able to clean out Mom's old office for him. _

"JASPER!" he shouts from the living room, shaking me from my memories. "GET DOWN HERE, YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!" he screams at me.

Groaning, I get up and run down the stairs, still in a slightly hazy state, before he has to call me again. That will only make it worse.

"Dad," I say quietly, looking him in the eye. He hated any sign of weakness, and not being able to look him in the eye was one of his biggest pet peeves.

I did stay out of his immediate reach though.

"What the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to embarrass me? Are you trying to make me the laughing stock of the town? I am the fucking police chief of this shitty town! I will not tolerate bullshit in my town _or_ in my house!" he spits out. I stared at him wide-eyed. "You are the star fucking quarterback. I expect to hear about you fucking random girls in the locker room, or a scandal with some cheerleaders. I don't expect to hear how _my son _is sucking some guys cock in the back seat of his car," he growls at me stepping closer and closer with each word as I'm backing up. "No son of mine will be a _fag_," he growls as he pulls his arm back. "No son of mine is going to be a fucking _cocksucker_," he sneers before the first blow hits.

He got my sore ribs first and as I bent over trying to protect them, he pulls back and punches my left eye. He's never hit us in the face before, it would be too hard to explain. I barely register the hit before he's hitting me again.

And again.

And again.

I think about fighting back, I know that with his military and police training, I wouldn't stand a chance against him. He's bigger and stronger than me. All I can do is try to protect myself as best as I can. I have my right leg up and my arms up trying to protect my torso and my face as much as possible.

I hear him yelling words like "cocksucker" and "fag" and "fucking homo" between hits. He's using me like a punching a bag with no end in sight. I finally drop to the ground, not able to hold myself up anymore. I curl up as tight as I can while he continues to punch and kick me. I feel something tight around my throat, but able to open my eyes as they are already swelling shut. I try to gasp for air, but it seems my supply is being cut off. I struggle with the unseen force constricting me as consciousness slowly fades from me.

I hear a distant shout and feel a sharp pain on the back of my head before everything is gone.

Blissful blackness.

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**Reviews are blissful!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: ** Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews, alerts and favorites! This chapter is short, but I hope it's still good.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it, just playing with the boys a bit.

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**All We Are**

**Chapter 2:** A Brother's Love

I can hear sounds. It's far away and quiet. Maybe voices? I listen carefully, not moving. Yep, voices. Not quiet whispering, but quiet, subdued voices. I can't quite make out who's talking yet.

I shift a little in bed, uncomfortable, and gasp at the pain I feel with the slight movement. All of a sudden I'm feeling pain everywhere. I hear movement close by me and a gentle pressure on my right hand. I think it's the only thing that doesn't hurt.

"Jasper?" I hear the quiet, melodic voice of Edward. "Jazz? Can you hear me?" I can hear the worry in his voice.

I try to answer him but my body doesn't want to cooperate. My "hey" comes out as a grunt. A painful grunt at that. I try to clear my throat but that only makes the fire in my throat burn even hotter.

"Don't try to talk, Jazz. You have to much bruising on your neck, it'll hurt."

_Now he tells me._

I try to open my eyes, but I'm only able to open my left eye a little. I look up to see Edward turning around and pulling out a notebook and a pen. He puts the pen in my right hand and puts the notebook under my hand.

"Dad?" I wrote sloppily.

"He's in jail. Emmett pulled him off of you and I called 9-1-1 and had him arrested. I also called Port Angeles police and told them what was happening in case some of Charlie's buddies decided to try to let him go. He's not getting out anytime soon. What …" he trailed off as the door opened.

"Doc! The Jazzman is finally awake!" rumbled the loud voice of Emmett McCarty. I looked over and saw the big bear. His brown eyes were shining with excitement, even with the purple bags under his eyes.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Whitlock. I'm Doctor Cullen. How are you feeling today?" A very fine specimen walked into view of my one good eye. Blue eyes, short cropped blonde hair, fair complexion, an easy, relaxed smile.

"I feel like I went 10 rounds with Tyson after he chewed me up," I wrote.

"Well, you certainly look like it," he smirked. "Want a run down of your injuries?" At my slight nod, he continued. "You have lacerations on your face and torso but you only needed a total of 8 stitches. You sustained several blows to the head, which caused severe facial swelling, a broken nose, a concussion, and you might lose some vision in your right eye. You have 2 broken ribs on your left side and bruising on your right. Your right arm just has a few lacerations and severe bruising, but is otherwise fine. The reason you can't speak right now is because you have a lot of swelling and bruising on your neck. The pain will eventually go away, but you may always have a bit of a scratchy voice now. It depends on how much scar tissue develops. Do you have any questions?"

"How long was I out?"

"You have been unconscious for four days."

I can see Dr. Cullen and Edward watching me closely as he's telling me about my injuries. I understand what the injuries meant. I know what happened. What would have happened if Edward and Emmett didn't show up when they did.

My father tried to kill me.

"You will need to stay in the hospital for at least another few days to make sure you don't have any other problems. Your _brothers_ have refused to leave you alone since you were admitted. I hope now that you are awake they will go home for a bit." I didn't miss the plural on brothers. I guess Emmett didn't want to leave Edward alone. "Please let me know if you need anything, Mr. Whitlock. I will help _any _way I can." He smiled at me and turned to leave.

Once I heard the door close I picked up my pen. "Brothers?" I wrote.

"Emmett didn't want to leave us here by ourselves. Even though we took precautions to make sure Charlie didn't get out, we didn't want to take chances. We've both taken turns sitting with you," Edward's soft voice said.

"Dude! Your old man is nuts! Eddie here got in a few good swipes when he tried to get at you after I pulled him off. He's one strong fucker, but not nearly as strong as me!" Emmett boasted with a snicker, kissing his biceps. I saw Edward shake his head and roll his eyes turning back to me.

"Do you know why?" I wrote shakily. I was afraid of what my brother, my best friend would think of me if he knew. I've been able to hide it from him for years now.

I saw him turn towards Emmett and nod his head towards the door. I guess he didn't want him in here for this discussion.

I heard him sigh as the door once again closed, this time behind Emmett. I watched as he ran his long fingers through his copper hair and moved to sit on my left side. Probably so I can see him better. When his green eyes met my one blue eye, he said, "Yes, I know."

I felt the tears welling up in my good eye but I never felt them fall. My face was to painful to detect anything as soft as tears. I knew they fell though.

The look on his face was one of anger, anguish.

Disgust.

I started to turn my head away from him, but he stopped me with a soft touch on my cheek preventing me from turning further away from him without hurting myself.

"Jasper, I heard the same rumors that Charlie's heard. Was it true? Are the rumors true? Did you give Jacob a blowjob in the backseat of your car?" he asked barely masking the anger and disgust in his voice, his green eyes blazing with the emotions.

"Yes."

"Are you gay?" he whispered.

"Yes."

I saw a storm of emotions through his eyes. Disbelief, hurt, anger, disgust, and something else I couldn't place. He sighed again and ran his fingers through his hair. "OK."

I watched as he got up, grabbed his backpack and his coat. He didn't look at me as he whispered "I'll see you later" and walked out.

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**Reviews are like big Emmett bears!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews, alerts and favorites! I want to rec **"Lessons Learned" by mistyhaze420**... This story is awesome!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it, just playing with the boys a bit.

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**All We Are**

**Chapter 3: **Changes

I watch as my brother walks out of the room. I sigh and try to wipe the tears that are still falling, but left them when it hurt to touch my face. I lay there on the bed, alone for who knows how long.

After a while, the doctor came back and said that he was going to have some tests done one me then the police wanted a statement from me. I just nodded and pass him a note asking for no other visitors to be allowed.

I didn't want to expect any visitors that I knew wouldn't come.

I don't know what I'm going to do now but I need to figure it out. I'm sure I won't be in the hospital forever. I have just a few short months before I graduate, but in all reality, I have enough credits to graduate now if I wanted to.

I spent the rest of the day, including during my tests, coming up with a plan to get out of town. My brother, my best friend, the one person I thought I could always count on, walked out on me.

After my so called dinner of watery mashed potatoes, peas, and something that was supposed to resemble turkey slices, Doctor Cullen came back with my test results. I am so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't even appreciate the hotness that is the doctor.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Whitlock?" he asked, again.

_Can I get away with telling him I feel like shit?_

"As good as can be expected, I guess." I wrote. _You get more with honey than shit._

"Well, how do you feel about visitors? Your brother has been here since this afternoon."

"Why? Why is he here? Does he… No, never mind. He left. No visitors." I wrote distractedly. Why would he come back? Did he want to tell me how disgusting I am too? Why does he have to hate me?

"Are you sure? I can ask him to come back tomorrow," the doc said skeptically.

"No, no visitors," I wrote again.

"Ok. You will need to get a ride home when you get out of here. I'm thinking you can leave tomorrow. Your tests came back fine and since you woke up, your vitals are all normal and steady. Would you like me to ask your brother to pick you up tomorrow afternoon?"

"No, I'll call a cab to pick me up." As he was about to say something, I added "He has school tomorrow." I don't know why the doc wanted to get into my business but I didn't want to face Edward's beautiful green eyes full of disgust again. I don't know if I can handle it.

With my plans finalized, I fell asleep dreaming of green eyes, copper hair, and relived the moment he turned his back on me. It hurt more than the beating my flesh and blood gave me.

I wake up to the sound of the nurse, Mrs. Cope, moving around my room. When she asks if what I want for breakfast, looking at me through her round glasses that are barely hanging on her round face, I shake my head no and write "Can you get the doc? I want to leave now please."

"I'll see what I can do, Hun," she says cheerfully. Cheerful people suck.

I'm happy that I can open both eyes today and decide to get up and look in the bathroom mirror to see the damage for myself. Grunting and groaning from the pain and stiffness that set in over not moving the past few days, I finally make it out of bed. My broken ribs hurt like a son of a bitch!

I pull on my IV cord making sure I have enough give to make it to the bathroom before eyeing the distance, which seems really daunting right now. You know that nightmare you have of the never-ending hallway? Yeah, that's what this looks like when every inch of you is hurting. In reality, it's only about ten steps away.

Each step is painful, but by the time I make it to the sink, I'm feeling hopeful that I won't have permanent damage. I take in a deep breath, bracing myself for the image I'm about to face.

I slowly raise my eyes taking in the bruise around my neck in the shape of a hand. I can see the finger marks wrap around my throat. I turn my head both ways getting a good look at it before raising my eyes to my mouth. My swollen lip isn't too bad. I've had worse from football practice, just minor cut on the bottom lip with one stitch in it. I raise my eyes further to my cheeks and nose. I have a bandage on my nose keeping it in place, with purplish bruises on my cheeks and nose. _Ok, I expected that._ It's not the first broken nose I've had in my life. I finally look into my own blue eyes and sigh. I look like a fucking raccoon. At least the swelling is down for the most part. I look at my forehead and see three stitches across my hairline. _Great. Hopefully my hair will grow back in there._

I pull the sleeves up on my hospital gown and check my arms, noting the four stitches on my right arm. The bruise is nasty enough, but now I'll have a nice scar from the stitches.

I hear the door open to the room so I poke my head out of the bathroom door and see the exquisite doc standing there looking at my chart.

"Hey Doc," I croak out quietly.

"Good morning, Mr. Whitlock. How are you this morning? Moving around alright?" he asks in his quiet professional tone.

I walk back towards the bed and sit on the edge of it. "I'm ok," again croaking.

"I'll go ahead and release you, but you will need to have your stitches removed in a week. I watch to check your vision really quick to see how bad the damage is. I do want you to see an optometrist soon. Make sure there's no permanent damage to your eye. Now, follow my finger and tell me when you can't see it anymore," he said raising his hand and moving it up and down, side to side.

"Good it doesn't look like you lost your peripheral sight, but remember to get it checked out. Do you have any questions?" he asked while writing in my chart.

I shake my head no, but I pull out my notepad and pen and write "Thank you Doc".

I watch a lazy smile cross his face, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He must be having a bad morning, which explains the cautiousness I'm feeling from him. "Are you sure you don't want to wait for your brother to come get you?"

"I'm sure. He needs to stay in school," I write.

Nodding but looking disappointed, he says, "Alright then. You're free to go. The nurse will be in for you to sign the paperwork and call a cab for you. Do you have money to get back?"

I go into the cabinet and pull out my pants that were on the shelf there and pull out my wallet. I still had fifty dollars in my hidden pocket. I nod to the doc and give him a little smile.

"Alright. Take care, Son." I watched as he walks out of the door with his shoulders hunched down looking defeated.

_Huh. I wonder what that's all about._

I shrug my shoulders before pulling out the rest of my clothes, noting the blood stains on them before putting them on. Once I'm dressed, I sit on the chair near the window and wait for the nurse to come in with the paperwork.

"Alrighty then. Ready to go, Hun?" says the overly cheerful nurse bringing a wheel chair with her. I nod my head even though she's not paying attention to me. I walk over to the bed and wait for her to hand me the clipboard with the documents I need to sign. She continues to look through the papers for another minute before she looks up at me with her dull green eyes, pushing her glasses back up her nose and wrapping her thin red hair around her ear.

She hands me the clipboard, telling me where to sign and that she will wheel me out to the waiting cab. I obviously can't argue with her since I can't talk, but I give her a withering look that clearly says "M_y legs aren't broken!"_ but I get in the chair and let her wheel me out. She's talking nonstop the entire time, making up for the fact that I can't talk apparently.

Once I'm in the front lobby, I see the cab waiting and try to push my feet along with the chair to get me there faster. Her cheerfulness is driving me insane. Once I'm in the pick up area, I put my feet down and grab the wheels to stop her. I get up quickly, groaning from the pain in my ribs that I apparently forgot about while trying to get away from Mrs. Cope.

"Bye, Hun. Feel better soon!" she called cheerfully.

_Did I mention cheerful people suck?_

I hand the driver the paper I had already written my address on and sit back. We pass the high school slowly and I watch as the kids run around, going to their next class. I look at my watch and notice that it's almost nine. I should be heading to AP English right now. Sighing, I sink back into the seat for the ten-minute drive home.

The taxi pulls up to the curb of my house and I get out handing the driver the money plus a small tip for not being cheerful. Walking up the driveway isn't easy even though the incline is pretty minimal. Damn ribs. I pull out my keys and open the door. Walking in, I notice that nothing has been touched. It looks like Edward hasn't been back to the house at all. I walk around noticing the bloodstain on the floor where Dad beat me. I shiver but keep going up the stairs, slowly.

Once I'm at the top of the stairs, I wait a few minutes to catch my breath and try to stop the throbbing pain I feel, everywhere. I head to my room to pack up my clothes, books, guitar, the lock box with my weed, and the money I keep stashed under the rug behind my desk.

Dad liked to make sure we only had enough, even though we both had jobs. He called it 'rent'.

Once I had everything I needed packed, I grabbed it all, which isn't easy considering all of the pain, and head down stairs. I grab the spare key to Dad's truck, leaving the Volvo that I shared with Edward, and head out.

My first stop, Forks High.

I speak with Mr. Banner about getting my diploma with the credits I already have. He said it wouldn't be a problem; I had more than enough since I had taken AP classes since I was a freshman. He promised to have the diploma mailed to me once the district approved it. I will have to get a change of address put into the Post Office as soon as I get a new address in order to get my diploma.

Next stop, Seattle.

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**Do you think cheerful people suck?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ** Sorry this chapter is late... I am being inundated with RL crap. Apparently, it takes a lot of time and paperwork to buy a condo! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted, or favorited me and/or All We Are. I really love getting my email alerts!

**Disclaimer:** Not mine... Sad, but true. I only want to play with them for a bit!

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**All We Are**

**Chapter 4:** Starting Again

When I was just outside of Seattle, I called my friend Rosalie Hale who graduated from Forks High last year and was currently attending the University of Washington. We agreed to meet up at a coffee shop near the campus. It took me a few tries to find the place because, well, she's blonde and horrible at giving directions.

"Jazz!"

I heard someone yell my name through my open window. I looked around and saw a shapely blonde wave at me from across the street at the café before I even park the car. I waved back, pulling into a parking spot just barely big enough for the pickup.

"Hey Jazz! It's good to see you," Rosalie said as she pulls open my door and pulls me into a tight hug. At my gasp of pain, she let's me go and pulls back to look at me. "What the fuck happened to you?" Her blue eyes narrow and she gets her protective mother bear look.

"Long story. I'll fill you in over coffee," I promised her. I grunted as I slid down from the seat of the truck and again when I reached over to grab my backpack from the middle console. Rosalie closed the door behind and grabbed my hand, leading us into the coffee shop.

Once we ordered our coffee and a pastry each, we sat down in a corner table away from the crowd that was in the shop. She didn't even sit down before she was telling me to spill it.

"Reader's Digest version is simply this: I sucked Jacob Black off in the backseat of his car, someone spilled the beans, Dad heard about it and tried to kill me. Edward was disgusted when he found out and walked out of the hospital room. I packed my shit up and came here." I said all of this as fast and emotionless as possible, without looking her in the eye. I felt ashamed that I was the cause of my family falling apart.

"Oh honey! You know you're dad is nothing but Grade A shit with a badge. Don't think that just because he's the world's worst dad that you are the world's worst son. Edward just may not now how to cope with everything. Did you give him a chance to explain why he left?" Rosalie asked with concern.

"No, I couldn't. You know how I feel about him. Now, he hates me. I'm something that no one wants to be associated with in a small town." When Esme died, Edward and I decided to stick together as much as possible. It's always been 'us against them'. I've never thought of him as just my little brother. He's been my best friend, my other half. "I don't know if he would have handled the news any better coming from me, but I had hoped that when we left Forks, he would see that I wasn't that different. Now I'm sure I'm just another disgusting fag to him," I said defeated.

"Jasper Whitlock! I'm surprised and shocked! You are not one to give up so easily. I don't know what would have happened, but you should have stayed and dealt with it. You are not the type of person to run away from shit." She sighed and took my hand in hers on top of the table. "What do you want to do?"

"Can I stay with you for a while? I have my diploma, well it'll be sent to me in the mail anyway. I was thinking of enrolling at UW. I can take a few classes just to get in until the next semester starts, then go full time. I know a few of the professors wanted me in their class this year anyway, so I can probably ask them to accept my late entry."

"That sounds like a plan. You can stay with me as long as you want. I have a two-bedroom apartment that my parents set me up with. I never wanted a roommate, but I suppose I can tolerate you for a while," she said with a smirk, her blue eyes shining.

We threw away our garbage and headed out to my truck. We drove the three blocks to her apartment complex, talking about my chances of getting into the classes I want. Once we got there, she helped me bring up my few belongings and put it into her spare room.

Now my room.

At least it wasn't a girly room.

I looked around at the warm earth tones that decorated the room. The full size bed had a mud brown colored comforter on it with a light blue sheet set. There was a bathroom just outside the bedroom door which I wouldn't have to share with her since she had the master bedroom.

I put my guitar in the corner of the room and started to unpack my clothes into the walnut colored dresser that she has in the room for guests. Once everything was put away, I sat on the bed and looked around at my new home. I sighed and laid backwards on the bed putting my arms over my eyes, wincing at the pull it caused on my ribs.

I felt so alone.

The lyrics to a song kept repeating in my head, making me want to forget everything and start a new life.

_This is not the end_

_This is not the beginning,_

_Just a voice like a riot_

_Rocking every revision_

_But you listen to the tone_

_And the violent rhythm_

_Though the words sounds steady_

_Something's empty within 'em_

_We say Yeah!_

_With fists flying up in the air_

_Like we're holding onto something_

_That's invisible there,_

'_Cause we're living at the mercy of_

_The pain and the fear_

_Until we dead it, forget it_

_Let it all disappear._

_Waiting for the end to come_

_Wishing I had strength to stand_

_This is not what I had planned_

_It's out of my control…_

_Flying at the speed of light_

_Thoughts were spinning in my head_

_So many things were left unsaid_

_It's hard to let you go…_

_I know what it takes to move one,_

_I know how it feels to lie,_

_All I wanna do_

_Is trade this life for something new_

_Holding onto what I haven't got_

_Sitting in an empty room_

_Trying to forget the past_

_This was never meant to last,_

_I wish it wasn't so…_

_I know what it takes to move on,_

_I know how it feels to lie,_

_All I wanna do_

_Is trade this life for something new_

_Holding onto what I haven't got_

_What was left when that fire was gone?_

_I thought it felt right but that right was wrong_

_All caught up in the eye of the storm_

_And trying to figure out what it's like moving on_

_And I don't even know what kind of things I've said_

_My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead_

_So, picking up the pieces, now where to begin?_

_The hardest part of ending is starting again_

Starting again.

That's what I need to do, but it's hard. Letting go of a past that I wasn't entirely happy with, but the moments I had with Edward and the few friends I had were something I was definitely going to miss.

Could I start over without him?

Can I let him go?

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The song is **"Waiting For The End" by Linkin Park**

Do you think Jasper should go back to Forks and talk to Edward, or start a new life where people aren't so disgusted by him?


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews, alerts and favorites! I'm sorry I haven't been sticking to a schedule very well but real life is kicking my ass! I want to rec **"Mergers and Acquisitions" by Touchstone67**... This story is really, really good!

**Disclaimer:** I wish Jasper was mine... but I'm not that lucky.

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**All We Are**

**Chapter 5: **New Plans

Monday morning I woke up at my usual time, ass-crack of dawn. I stretched out as slowly and as controlled as I could so I wouldn't hurt myself. It was a good long stretch. I rubbed my face and sat up looking around. I missed my room, I missed knowing that I would see Edward coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel.

I shook my head to rid myself of my current thoughts. I got up and grabbed my toiletry bag and headed to the bathroom. I had planned out my day during the weekend and made decisions that I now had to stick to.

I hated making decisions, choosing one path over another. What if it was the wrong path? What if I chose the wrong fork and I ended up making things worse for myself and others? I don't know if what I chose to do is the right way or not, but I had to stick to it to find out. If it's the wrong one, I can only hope that the right one will once again present itself later on.

I took an extra hot, long shower to relax and get my sore muscles moving semi fluidly again. When I was done, I carefully stepped out of the shower and wiped off the foggy mirror with my towel. I looked at my bruised face and neck and wondered if I could cover them up enough to get my plan in motion. I needed to ask Rose if she had any makeup that would work.

I brushed my teeth and shaved before running the towel through my blonde curls one last time. I wrapped up in the towel and opened the door only to be accosted by Rosalie herself.

"You need me," is all she said as she pulled me over to the end of my bed.

She then proceeded to apply makeup to my bruised and battered face.

"Ok, what are you doing awake this early?" I questioned cautiously, my voice still raspy. Rose was not a morning person.

"I know what you're planning, and I also know it won't work with the way you look right now. We both now you are extremely good looking, and we need to make sure that you can use it to your advantage and not look like you just did a few rounds in a MMA fight," she all but growled at me.

I kept quiet for the next half hour as she worked to cover up my face. When she was done, she help up a little hand mirror and waited with one eyebrow raised, daring me to say something bad about it.

"Wow, I look almost normal. Thank you, Rosie. You did great."

"It'll do. Now get dressed. I picked out your outfit for you. Look in the closet," she smirked as she walked out of the door. I rolled my eyes. She has always thought I was incapable of picking out my own clothes. Of course, that was my problem according to Rose. '_It's an outfit. All the clothes together make and outfit and you have to wear everything so that it matches with everything else'_.

They were clothes.

I got dressed in the black jeans, light blue button down shirt, black leather belt, and my black boots that she had pulled out for me. I looked in the full-length mirror that was on the closet door, ran my hands through my messy curls again and went to make some breakfast.

While the nectar of life was brewing, I made scrambled eggs and toast for Rose and me. As soon as the coffee was done, Rose came out of her room looking immaculate. She was wearing blue jeans with a white tank top and sweater. Of course her long blonde hair was already curled perfectly and her makeup was flawless. She was the epitome of beauty.

"You look beautiful, Rosie," I say leaning in to kiss her on the cheek and handing her a plate of food.

"Thanks, Jazz. I can get used to someone around to make me breakfast in the mornings! Sure you don't want to stick around for the next four years while I finish college?" she asked laughing.

I just roll my eyes and pour myself coffee and grab my plate. We eat in a comfortable silence and when we're done, Rose collects the dishes and starts cleaning up the kitchen. I go in my room and grab my jacket, keys, and wallet then head out the door.

I drive to the University of Washington and find my way to the administration building. I make appointments to see the professors that I know, and get the registration paperwork completed and turned in. I make an appointment to see a counselor to find out how I can get into more classes than the two I know will take me.

Once all the school business was taken care of, I hit the pavement. I walk up and down the area from the school looking for places to put applications in. I also drive further out and see what I can find closer to downtown. I notice a few bars that were open and asked about getting a job serving or playing music (playing only, no singing). I put in for bookstores, knick-knack stores, stores along Pike's Marketplace. I can only hope that one place will bite.

By the time I was done, I headed back to the school to meet with the counselor.

"Mr. Whitlock, come one in," said the older man. He was about a foot shorter than me with slicked back brown hair and dull brown eyes. I can that this man really enjoyed his job. About as much as he would enjoy drowning in bleach, I'm sure.

"Mr. Swan. How are you?"

"I'm good. I understand you are trying to get into some classes through late admission. Can you tell me why you applied late?"

Not wanting to, but knowing it would help me, I told him parts my story. "My dad kicked me out of the house when he found out I was gay. I made arrangements with my high school to have my transcripts and my diploma sent to me since I had more than enough credits to graduate. I am staying with a friend here in Seattle and I would like to start classes instead of wasting what little brain cells I have," I joked.

"I see. Well, it sounds like you are making some right choices considering your circumstances. I can't guarantee that the professors will allow late admission, or at least allow it for credit. I will see what I can do to though to help you out. Do you know what you want to major in? Do you have financial aid set up?"

"No, I just want to take some general ed classes for now. I think I need sometime to get my life sorted out before I declare a major. As for financial aid, I don't need it. I have a trust fund set up so that I can't take anything out unless I show proof it's for school until I'm twenty-five. Once I get the registration documents taken care of, I'll send it to the bank to get the money I need for a years worth of tuition and supplies." I sent a silent thank you to my grandfather for setting up the account for me when my mother died. I think he knew what kind of man my father was.

"Well, that's great! I will get in touch with you later this week and see what classes we can get you in. I see you have already applied for two classes, American History: Civil War Era and Music Theory. Any particular reason you picked these two classes?"

"I know the professors and they have both personally asked me to attend their classes. I have submitted work to both of them during my junior year in hopes of choosing a major either in history or music. Now, I'm undecided. I figure if I can at least take those two classes along with a couple gen ed classes, then I will qualify as a full-time student and get the max from my trust to also pay for housing."

"You seem to have this all planned out well. I will see what I can do. Good luck, Mr. Whitlock," he said standing up holding his hand out.

"Thank you, Mr. Swan," I said shaking his hand.

I walked out feeling better about my plan. I just hoped that whatever he was doing, Edward was happy and safe now that Dad was out of the picture.

* * *

**What are your plans for this week?**


End file.
